


Whatever You Need

by thearkwrites



Series: The Ugly Bug Ball [5]
Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mech Preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearkwrites/pseuds/thearkwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kickback doesn't take too well to the newest member of their team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Need

“You don't love me anymore, do you?” Kickback said without warning or reason.

Saberhorn made a dramatic twist to gape at his mate in shock and horror. Having just returned from a successful mission involving the theft of automotive parts, he was looking forward to seeing Kickback again. He was rapidly approaching the due date of their first cluster, and the alarming changes to his frame both heralded the event and restricted Kickback to the berth. To say that the grasshopper-con was desperate for company was a complete understatement; he was practically begging for conversation and congress every time his partner waltzed through the door. Not that Saberhorn was complaining since he was immensely enjoying Kickback's affections. The upbeat salutations and raunchy offerings were music to his audials.

The disconsolate keening was not.

In mere moments he was beside the form lying on the berth, resting his helm on the same pillow Kickback was occupying. With much flourish, he took both green-and-red servos into his own to lay a comforting kiss upon each knuckle. “Darling, please.” He implored as he met the other mech's mournfal gaze. “Don't let such obscenities slip past those sweet little lip-plates.”

Kickback wrenched his servos from Saberhorn's grip and pouted. “Then why'd you let _him_ on the team?” He said in a voice shaking with emotion.

There it was. Saberhorn understood immediately and began to massage Kickback's heavy, swollen belly in soothing, circular motions. This usually relaxed the often-nervous mech and, Saberhorn hoped, its effects would be the same this time around. “Oh, Kickback. You know full well why we accepted Steeljaw as part of our company.” He began, attempting to rationalize why he, Glowstrike and Scorponok had welcomed Steeljaw into their fold—the very same Steeljaw who had Kickback tied to a stake and used him as bait for the Autobots protecting this planet. The mere mention of his name was enough to put Kickback in an extremely foul mood, while the wolf-con's very presence had turned him into even more of a hermit. But discussion of Steeljaw's character was a risk that Saberhorn needed to take.

“He's intelligent...”

“Sneaky.” Kickback interjected.

“...resourceful...” Saberhorn continued.

“Opportunistic.”

“...a leader...”

“A tyrant in the making.”

“...and remarkably adept at utilizing subsonics. Combine it all and you've got a truly intriguing mech whom, we three have agreed, has a lot to contribute to our cause. The very cause you and I have been striving towards since we awoke on this planet.” Saberhorn finished, expecting Kickback's sour expression to soften, even a little.

It didn't. “Even knowing what he did to me?” Kickback said, scowling harder and sounding insulted.

His chances at salvaging the situation were becoming slimmer by the minute. Kickback's anger at Steeljaw ran far deeper than he could have predicted. Saberhorn cleared his intake—as he usually did when he needed a moment to think—and resumed speaking. “Yes becau—well, I must admit, the image of you in ropes is quit—”

“Saberhorn, focus!” Kickback pinched the other mech's cheek.

“Sincerest apologies, darling.” The former pirate said sheepishly. “Absence does make the heart and mind grow fonder, after all.” He added as he intertwined his digits with those belonging to Kickback. Once upon a time such an act was done to give the carrying mech some semblance of a real sparkbond. Displays of tenderness, no matter how disingenuous, were said to have helped in the birth of healthy offspring. Then, Saberhorn performed them out of duty as both sire and soldier. Now...

“More like 'yonder', you numbnut.” Kickback grumbled and rolled over to face the wall. The eight or so—their medic estimated eight sparklings, Kickback reckoned more—sparklings growing inside of him turned the simple action into a laborious effort. Saberhorn reached out and pushed the grasshopper onto his opposite side. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem, darling.” Saberhorn purred, spooning Kickback as he did. “We are a team, after all.”

Saberhorn heard and felt the grasshopper sigh. “I guess but...”

The larger mech draped an arm over the lighter frame. “Ssh. Ssh. I know, darling. I know.” Came the whispers that brought Kickback's train of thought to a halt. Instead of raising a fuss, Kickback seemed content to let out a forlorn whine—the sound that the grasshopper-con made whenever he needed some attention and affection.

Saberhorn hugged Kickback tighter. 

“What Steeljaw has done to you is nothing short of unacceptable. But please, darling, understand that our need to get off this planet vastly outweighs whatever personal enmity you may have with him. An unpredictable rogue he may be, yet he's one with a canny knowledge of this planet's many secrets. Not counting Glowstrike's emerging inclinations towards him, Steeljaw could very well rise among our ranks through his own efforts. Better to have him as a friend than an enemy, don't you think?”

Among the three of them, it was Saberhorn who had the most ambivalent opinion of Steeljaw. Glowstrike was fond of him for his extreme competence, while Scorponok found it suspicious. Kickback's grudge against the wolf-con had given Saberhorn even more of a reason to consider his own feelings with greater circumspection. In the end, he decided that the most practical solution was to have Steeljaw with them instead of against them, and to regard everything he said and did with a small amount of caution. Trusting or disbelieving him thoroughly was not a wise course of action. Neither Glowstrike nor Scorponok could be swayed to see his views just yet; luckily, Kickback was far more accepting of what his mate had to say. At least, Saberhorn hoped he was.

“Kickback?”

The silence was unnerving.

“Darling?”

The smaller mech shifted in his embrace. Their time together had taught Saberhorn that the reaction was more than a change in position. Fidgeting was part of Kickback's thinking process.

“Yeah, I—I guess.” Kickback eventually conceded, vocals strained and thin. “But still...”

Saberhorn kissed the other's helm. “If you're worried about him ever coming near you and our cluster, don't worry. I shall keep his as far from you all as possible.”

He felt Kickback go slack. Finally.

“Thanks.”

Saberhorn smiled into Kickback's neck, hoping the other mech could sense it. “Anytime, darling. Anytime.”


End file.
